Grown Ups
by Morgan72uk
Summary: An extra scene for Kids nothing much happens. Just Cuddy, House and Wilson in a rare quiet moment


Title: Grown Ups

Author: Morgan72uk

Summary: An extra scene from Kids

Pairing: Not so much - but a House / Wilson / Cuddy piece

Rating: K

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, please don't sue

A/N - so I saw Kids for the first time last week (I'm in the UK, we're behind) and I noticed that Cuddy's make up was really pared down - so she looked tired. And this little scene popped into my mind.

Grown Ups

After a brief search you run her to ground in the clinic; she is in the waiting area, curled into the corner of the institutional issue seating, her eyes are closed and she is rubbing her neck. After the day you have both had the Doctor in you can't help asking,

'Please tell me you took those little pills you've been forcing on everyone?'

'Of course I took them,' Cuddy opens her eyes and as you sit beside her she sighs, heavily. 'I don't have neck ache, I ache everywhere – I'm not an expert but that could be because I'm exhausted – oh wait, as it turns out I am an expert.'

'Excellent diagnosis.' You're tired as well, but then you're always tired, so it's hardly a surprise that she doesn't seem to notice. She has closed her eyes again and actually, now you come to look at her, she does look paler than normal, there are shadows under her eyes that could be evidence of sleeplessness or they could be smudged make-up. Either way she is not her normal, immaculate self.

You stifle a smile when you realise she has exchanged her favoured pointy high heels for something eminently more practical and you spend a few minutes trying to guess how many pairs of shoes she keeps in her office for occasions such as this.

'How's the kid?' she asks at last, reminding you why you sought her out in the first place.

'Just peachy – she has TTP – pregnancy related, I've scheduled the termination.'

'God,' her eyes are open now, 'she's how old – 12?'

'Yes, so obviously she's fine to handle a termination on her own.'

'She asked you not to tell her parents?' You nod and rest your chin on the cane for a moment – you've been looking for a way round this for the last hour and having failed to find one you came looking for her, the court of last resort. 'You OK?'

'No, couldn't I just…?'

'You can't tell them! You know you can't.'

'Yeah,' she watches you for a moment, probably trying to work out whether you are going to do it anyway. She has no need to worry, on a different day you'd enjoy tormenting her with the prospect of what you might do – but she is probably too tired to fight back now and really its only fun if she fights back. 'Don't worry, I'll be a good Doctor.'

'You are a good Doctor,' the words are almost a whisper and you decide it will be safer for both of you if you pretend you didn't hear that. 'After the termination she might change her mind – when she realises how much it is to go through that on her own.'

'Maybe.' You are less convinced than she is but actually as hopes go, it isn't a bad one to hold onto.

'So, how did the interviews go?' Interesting question.

'One definite no, one maybe – but I want to talk to Cameron again, persuade her to come back?'

'I thought you had already tried that?'

'I need to give it another shot.' You know you sound defensive and even when she is tired Cuddy is astute. An elegant brow arches up but all she says is,

'Do I want to know why?'

'Probably not.'

'Fine – talk to her again – but resolve it one way or another.' It is on the tip of your tongue to tell her that you suspect a resolution is going to be complicated but before you get there Wilson drops down onto the seats and wordlessly hands Cuddy a large cup of coffee.

'You look like hell,' you tell him – mainly because it isn't true. He looks like the epitome of a hard working doctor; tired, dedicated, brave. You can almost hear feminine hearts fluttering at the prospect of taking care of him. Which is, of course, how he gets into so much trouble with relationships. You reflect that one of the few things that can be said in Cuddy's favour is that she has never taken Wilson's charms even remotely seriously – which probably means she's his perfect match if he ever decides to step off the married / divorced merry-go-round he is currently on. You frown – this is not a thought you want to have again.

'We're getting old,' Wilson observes propping his feet on the table and leaning back.

'Thanks,' Cuddy rolls her shoulders and grimaces.

'She has neck ache,' you tell him, mainly just to see the inevitable anxious expression the news immediately produces.

'I do not have neck ache.'

'She's kind of grouchy as well and she was hot earlier, could be a fever?'

'I'm tired and I have you to deal with, which is enough to make a saint grouchy and I never claimed to be a saint.'

'I'm just concerned with your health.'

'You're bored and causing trouble.' Cuddy delivers a withering verdict on your behaviour that apart from anything else has the benefit of accuracy and then turns to Wilson, 'did you call Julie?' As a change of subject it is little short of brilliant.

'Yes,' the evasiveness is his reply prompts her to ask the question

'Recently?'

'Well, it was a few hours ago – perhaps 12 – but I'm sure it's fine.'

'Perhaps you should call her now,' she suggests, demonstrating her ability to problem solve, although from what you know of the current state of the Wilson marriage you think her analysis of what will work is overly optimistic. Still, James does seem to consider the idea for a moment at least before shrugging and offering,

'I have good scotch in my office.'

'Your office is miles away,' you point out – not strictly true, but when has that ever stopped you?

'We could send a nurse to get it?' Despite being exhausted Cuddy produces a glare so impressive that Wilson immediately answers his own question, 'or not.'

'We could page Chase and get him to bring it over,' you suggest.

'He's punishing him,' Wilson says to Cuddy by way of explanation, 'he's having fun.'

'I am not sitting in the waiting area drinking scotch. It's just not going to happen.' Her tone makes it perfectly clear that the rest of the sentence is 'and you two will try it over my dead body.' So, that's a no then.

'So, we're staying here?' You ask no one in particular – just to clarify the situation, it is Cuddy who replies.

'Just until I can move again, a day or two should be enough, maybe a week.'

'How will we get food and coffee?' Wilson is a man with an eye for detail and she does appear to consider this question.

'That I'm OK with paging Chase for.' She has closed her eyes again – which makes it easier for you pay her a rare compliment.

'You did well today, even without Vogler's millions.' She doesn't reply but her lips curve into a small smile, so you know that she heard you – and has taken the compliment in the spirit it was meant.

Satisfied you stretch your leg out and tilt your head back to contemplate the ceiling as the three of you sit there in as close to a companionable silence as you are ever likely to get. You are pretty sure you all have things that you should be dealing with but, just at the moment, it feels OK not to be doing them. In fact, just at the moment if feels OK to be doing nothing at all.

The End


End file.
